


home

by mistermrbee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAka Week 2020, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, akaashi-centric, dealing with pent-up emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistermrbee/pseuds/mistermrbee
Summary: There was a solution to this feeling, Akaashi now knew."Bokuto-san," he exhaled, and then let himself surrender.day 5: touch
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 38
Kudos: 177
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020, My favorites





	home

The house never offered comfort in touches, the words seem hollow even if they're praises directed his way. His house seemed concrete and unfeeling, like a mere structure built upon calculated control, stoic — like his parents. 

He had never been touched like this before, not even by his middle school teammates who offered high-fives nor during a team embrace when things got heated after winning a game. His classmates and upperclassmen did not linger, did not hold a second too long. This was different, and he did not know when he had been so desperate for it until it was too late.

It started when he woke up with a cold sweat, the nightmare already forgotten but the emotions remained, lingering like a cold blanket. Within minutes he felt calm, but he couldn't go back to sleep. So instead he stayed up for two more hours, saddled by uneasiness. The house seemed colder than usual in the early morning like this, but Akaashi was used to it by now, not at all bothered by how it made him feel sick, stuck in a post-nightmare haze in the dark.

It continued on in the day, a prickling reminder on the back of his neck whenever someone got too close to him. The classes helped distract him from it, but the sensations refused to bubble away. It constricted his movements in a way that prevented him to function normally. Cold sweat permeated his limbs, his senses fine-tuned to pick up the chill in the wind even through the many layers of his uniform.

He tried to shrug off the vestiges of it during practice, instead focusing on the exertion of his muscles and working off a good sweat. It seemed to distract him for a while, especially with the booming voice of  _ "Hey hey heyy~!!" _ followed by the many variants of his surname calling his attention away from his thoughts. 

His gravity centered around the captain then, subconsciously seeking the pull of the enthusiastic presence before him and made him think. Normally, there weren't any conscious thoughts entering Akaashi’s mind when he stared at the back of his best friend — like a pair of magnets always seeking, always searching for the anchor that was Bokuto. His mind halts and gives him reprieve of his inner thoughts whenever he gazes at him. 

This day, though, was different. He felt tingly, strangely high-strung, like he had drank two cups of black coffee and felt slightly unhinged. And the mind that was always empty when his eyes found Bokuto was strangely full. Something was about to burst, the incoherent buzzing translating itself to his mind was threatening to spill over. Up till this moment he never knew what he wanted, what he craved, what bubbled beneath his skin that it was trying to overcome his senses. Not until... he saw him that day.

All his thoughts followed like a beacon and screamed one name. There was a solution to this feeling, Akaashi now knew.

He wanted,  _ no _ , he needed to touch him. Have his undivided attention. The distance closed between them. Akaashi's skin was near electrifying with every almost-touches when his teammates walked by him in the locker room, changing into their uniforms and calling it a day. He didn't know where this feeling came from, it wasn't even altogether a bad day. He just started the day wrong that's all, there was no reason to fret. 

Yet his body betrayed him, it was screaming for something Akaashi couldn't afford to give by himself. Demanding a want that he knew could only be achieved by one person. 

"Akaashi, are you okay?"

He turned to look, meeting the expectant yet concerned gaze directed to him and  _ oh _ , how it amplified the feeling. It burned, it was unbearable,  _ he longed _ .

"Bokuto-san," he exhaled, and then let himself surrender. 

He reached, body acting on its own before his mind could catch up, towards the other's blazer and held on. "'Kaashi?" His voice was soft and so,  _ so close _ , and quiet, and just  _ there _ . If only Akaashi had the mind to request, to will his mouth to work and ask—

Immediately, hands flew to his shoulders and tentatively gave them a little squeeze. The warmth seeping through his clothes short-circuited him, his body came undone. "Bokuto-san," he tried again, his voice near pleading. "Can you,"  _ please _ "hold me?"

There was no hesitation, he felt arms, solid and strong, wrapping him in a tight embrace and into a firm chest in seconds — engulfing him with the much needed warmth he so desperately seeks. He released the breath he was holding and let himself melt, his arms coming up around Bokuto's waist and finally let himself breathe.

The tingling heat dispersed, focused onto the contact where Bokuto was... giving him comfort, giving him safety. At that moment, something bloomed within his chest: molten, tender, encompassing. It spread to his face, his limbs, and then finally to the tips of his fingers. 

He knew this need wasn't born because of the nightmare, it was just piling up for the last few weeks. Inside his cold, cold house, his mother praised him as usual.  _ 'Good work, Keiji.' _ His father expected no less.  _ 'Deserving of an Akaashi.' _ Precise, calculated, not giving more than what's necessary — all these years he never found out what's missing, until warmth equal to that of sunlight beamed down at him.

Bokuto.

He inhaled the scent from his blazer and breathed,  _ just breathed _ . His eyes were closed, relief finally washing over him like a wave as he let himself go and be selfish for once. Bokuto's hand came up between his shoulder blades and rubbed small circles there making him sigh in contentment. It's warm, he couldn't understand why it's so warm. Like a fireplace emanating heat to a hearth that provides warmth throughout the entire house.

"Bokuto-san?" his voice came out slightly muffled with his face squashed on the other's shoulder, waiting for his captain to reply. 

"Hmm?" he felt more than heard his reply since Akaashi was pressed to his chest, feeling the vibration through his cheek.

"Can we stay like this,"  _ forever _ "for a while?"

And he knew it was unreasonable, surely, to associate one word to Bokuto. His senpai was many things, he doubted he could fit all the words he wanted to describe the man holding him in just one essay. Yet at the moment, where his mother's words echoed like a biting frostbite, where his father's praise felt like solid stone — Bokuto surely, was  _ home _ .

"Anything you like, Akaashi." He tucked his face in between his neck, nuzzling for more. "I'm always here for you."

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i woke up in the middle of the night feeling awful and wrote the draft for this fic, being stuck in quarantine sucks.
> 
> also, it's been so long since i've written a fic ahhh i'm rusty, please tell me what you think
> 
> scream at me on [ twitter ](https://mobile.twitter.com/loving_fkrdn) or [ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mistermrbee)


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